


(I'm dreaming of) Tearing you Apart

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Mental Illness, Prison, Sexualized Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen’s pretty sure that he’s only gotten crazier since he’s been here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I'm dreaming of) Tearing you Apart

Jensen’s pretty sure that he’s only gotten crazier since he’s been here. Something about the dark, windowless cage that he lives in. Doesn’t exactly promote sanity, in his opinion. 

Back on the outside, he used to like cutting other people open. Nothing feels the same as sticking his hand into a warm, wet body that’s still alive. Feeling the race of a heartbeat right before it stutters out, stopping completely. 

But now, Jensen’s sick. He likes to pulls his own insides out, these days. Anything to get out from the bars, barbed wire, and 30ft walls, into the fresh air. To see the stars, or feel the rain on his face. 

Luckily for him, his cell-ie Jared’s just as crazy as he is. And Jared likes to feed his obsession. Likes to see Jensen’s insides on the outside, just as much as he does. 

The thing about Jared is, he’s been inside for longer than him. Longer than most of the guys here. Jared knows exactly how to get things that they shouldn’t have. Jensen's never asked how. He doesn't want to know.

Neither of them are allowed any personal belongings. Some of the guys on the block have the right to a toothbrush or a shampoo bottle. But not him, and not Jared. Those are dangerous tools in their capable hands. 

It doesn’t bother him that Jared’s killed people, just like him. There’s something about unwrapping skin from a body, peeling back pretty red layers that gets both of them off. It makes their own hearts flutter, in a completely different way from the bodies underneath them. 

 

When Jensen looks up from where he’s sitting in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, he knows that tonight’s going to be special. He can tell by the way that Jared’s smiling, dimples giving him a deceivingly childish, wholesome quality. 

There’s nothing wholesome at all about Jared. 

“CO’s are changing shift,” Jared says, as he crawls on his hands and knees towards him, licking his lips. “And I managed to get a present for us.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, as Jared licks a slow, slobbery line up his face. “What’s that?” 

“Guess. I want you to guess.” His words are fast. Excited.

“A candy bar?” 

If there’s anything that would sway Jared from indulging in his need to take people apart piece by piece it would be sugar. Something they don’t get in here. Instead, it’s lots of overcooked, under-spiced vegetables that Jensen lets Jared hand feed him. Really, Jared just likes putting his hands on Jensen’s insides any way he can. Almost as good as the gummy bears and sour-patch kids that Jared talks about in his sleep. 

“Nope. Better.” 

“A knife?” 

“Not quite as good. Warmer though.” 

“A piece of a tray?” Rough, sharp pieces of plastic are Jensen’s favorite implements these days. 

“Bingo. You wanna do it, or you want me to?” 

Jared’s breath is fruity, pupils dilated, and Jensen can feel the thick press of his dick through the orange fabric of their jumpsuits. Blue for everyone else. Orange for the violent and the crazy. They should really be wearing double orange. 

In the past, Jensen’s always been the one to cut himself. He lets Jared watch, lets Jared touch his insides, lets Jared get off and orgasm hard to the warm feel of his pulse through the thick membranes of his intestines, but he’s never let Jared do the cutting. 

But tonight Jared’s so hopeful, looking up at him from underneath large, hazel eyes that Jensen gives in. 

“You can do it,” he says, and the smile that Jared gives him in return is enough to take the breath from his lungs. It’s the same smile that probably has pulled the breath from multiple people. For good. 

It’s a surprise, after Jared unzips him, arranges him supine and naked on the cold cement floor that Jared doesn’t make the incision first, straight from the bottom of his sternum to his navel. Instead, Jared presses wet kisses all the way down to his cock, which he takes his time licking and nuzzling until it stands straight up, eager as a puppy for Jared’s attention. 

“Jared—what?” 

“It’ll hurt less,” Jared releases his cock from his mouth long enough to say. And hell. Jensen’s not going to argue with that one. 

Jared’s surprisingly good at sucking dick, and Jensen wonders if that’s how Jared gets them contraband items. The thought of Jared sinking to his knees for other guys makes Jensen a little queasy though, and Jared can clearly tell as he redoubles his efforts, taking the time rub the space behind his balls. 

Jensen struggles to stay quiet as his hips start punching a way into the back of Jared’s throat, sloppy and irregular, until he comes biting his lip until it bleeds. 

Jared’s happy to lick it up as he feeds Jensen a mixture of come and blood into his mouth, while Jared rubs himself lazily against his thigh. He almost feels too good, too sated, to go through with it, to really trust Jared to open him up without puncturing anything vital, when he feels the press of Jared’s thumb palpating his sternum, and then the rough edge of hard plastic forcing a way into his soft abdomen. 

He’s about halfway down, going really slow, opening Jensen centimeter by centimeter as his hips thrust faster, and then Jensen can feel the blood start to really ooze out of him, feels Jared’s hands start to pull apart his skin so he can really see Jensen, and then Jensen has to scream. He tries to move away on instinct, but Jared holds him steady. Safe.

Jared’s hips don’t stop, but he does look up with concern, and Jensen’s getting dizzy now; he’d really like that O2 mask they’ll strap onto his face any minute now. 

“Keep going,” he manages to say to Jared, who grins at him and pulls just a little harder until he can stick his hand into Jensen and touch him from the inside. 

Jensen can vaguely feel a warm, wet heat that’s not his spread over his thigh, right before the guards start yelling for Jared to get off and step back. 

“Thanks,” he says weakly, and although that guards seem to think he’s talking to them, he’s not. He’s talking to Jared, who’s standing in the corner, smiling as he’s pressed against the wall, dick still half-hard, with a come soaked spot showing blatantly through his orange clothing, while the guards handcuff his wrists behind his back. 

“Anytime, Jen,” Jared says easily, like he’s done this a hundred times before. No different than walking through the lunch line. “Have fun on the outside world.” 

Jensen sees the stars for a brief moment as they roll him outside, strapped to a stretcher and into the ambulance. 

He feels better already.


End file.
